Righting Fate, Changing Destiny
by Bunnylass
Summary: Paul Slater's threat to go back in time and change Jesse's death was very real. A threat Suze didn't listen to until it was too late. Now she is living an alternate time line that doesn't include a hot dead rancher, but a life devoid of living. But there are some things that can't be changed and a love that was written to be before time itself is one of them. UPDATED!
1. Righting Fate, Changing Destiny

_**Disclaimer:**_ The Mediator series belongs to Meg Cabot. I'm just twisting it up a bit.

_**Rating:**_ M - for safety.

_**Summary:**_ Slight AU. Multiple POV. Paul Slater's threat to go back in time and change Jesse's death was very real. A threat Suze didn't listen to until it was too late. Now she is living an alternate time line that doesn't include a hot dead rancher, but a life devoid of living. But there are some things that can't be changed and a love that was written to be before time itself is one of them.

_**A/N:**_ This is a story I have been itching to write for a very long time. Years even! So I'm glad to finally be able to write it and share it with you all. Please read and review, reassure me it was worth the wait. :) Love!

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><p><em><strong>'How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?' - <strong>_Winnie the Pooh

_**Righting Fate, Changing Destiny**_

_**Prologue**_

Ever since I can remember, my life hasn't been normal. I haven't had loads of friends, been asked to birthday parties, or been out on dates every weekend like my best friend Gina, back in New York. I haven't been popular or desired - until recently - nor had my personal land line ringing off the hook constantly like my poor, unfortunate mom wanted to have. I've always thought of myself as a freak, because honestly if you could see the dead on a daily basis too, you'd think the same of yourself. A teenage girl who hasn't been able to be a teenager because I've been too busy helping the undead go to wherever it is they're supposed to go.

So yeah, my life is far from normal.

Throw into the mix the fact I am insanely in love with the ghost who's been haunting my bedroom - or his if you want to get technical about it as he was here first - for the past century and a half and I'm not exactly winning any awards for the most sane girl in Carmel either. Not that anyone but my school principal and fellow Mediator Father Dominic, and another fellow Mediator who definitely has questionable intentions towards me, Paul Slater, _know_ that I'm in love with a ghost that is. Of course not, because no one but Father Dom and Paul can _see_ Jesse. My step brother Brad has heard him, but he'd never guess it was a ghost he was eavesdropping on.

Of course not having anyone see Jesse is a slight obstacle in our relationship we've been fighting to ignore the last few weeks, thanks to Paul Slater sticking his nose into our business and trying very damn hard to screw it all up for me because he has this insane idea that I'm supposed to be with him instead of Jesse. Yeah, right! I'm pretty sure Paul _isn't_ the man I'm supposed to love for all of time. Not that he likes hearing that I'm not as warm for his form as he is for mine, but whatever. My point is, everything would have, could have been fine if Paul wasn't such a lunatic and trying so hard to ruin my life and take away the closest thing to normal as I'm ever going to get.

Because Jesse loves me back!

Jesse de Silva, an eighteenth century rancher who was viciously strangled - at least I'm guessing he was strangled - in his sleep while on his way to call off his wedding to his cousin, back in 1850. Jesse who is imposingly tall with dark, crisp wavy hair and eyes so deep they look almost black; he's dangerous and sexy and handsome, with a seriously ripped body that would make any man jealous and any woman drool, and who somehow loves me back. Me, Suze Simon who has had all of two kisses in my seventeen years and never thought would ever find someone who would love me, crazy habit of speaking to the dead and all. Of course it helps that he's a ghost too, but still, he didn't have to fall in love with me too.

But then there's Paul Slater . . . who I'm pretty sure is the devils spawn.

Up until I moved to Carmel, California from Brooklyn, New York I thought I was the only Mediator, _ever_. But then I met Father Dom and suddenly I didn't feel quite so much like a freak or alone. Then, like fate was stepping in and giving me a hand, I met Jack Slater and found out he's a Mediator too! So imagine my surprise when I was casually walking through the Shadowland - what I call the creepy place between the living and the dead - trying not to show Jesse just how much I loved him and not to die because my time was running out after saving Jesse from being permanently exorcised - and along strolls Paul Slater; _another_ Mediator.

In the weeks since meeting Paul he's been trying to persuade me we're more than just Mediators, that we're what he calls Shifters. People who can shift - I know, real original name - between the worlds of the living and the dead without going through the mess of getting chicken blood for a voodoo spell, or having your catholic priest of a principal to exorcise you. We can also apparently transfer one soul from a body and put another soul in there. When you break that nifty little gift down, it's basically murder. But that's not all, he also has this crazy, so totally insane theory that we can go back in time too. That if I had something from that time period, like my dead fathers old t-shirt; I could go back and save his life. Yes, I did think about doing that but my dad nixed that idea pretty quickly.

Besides, if my dad hadn't died, I would never have moved to Carmel and met Jesse. How am I supposed to choose between my dad and the guy I love?

But it was this theory of going back in time, one that I thought was totally bogus and impossible that had me where I am now, standing in my bedroom numb with shock and fear as I watched Jesse shimmer from the room leaving me alone and completely terrified. I told you Paul's the devil's spawn right? Because he is! He's an insane guy who is down at the Basilica of my school right now, with something he brought that belonged to Jesse's murderer back in 1850, about to shift back in time so he can prevent Jesse from dying in the first place and effectively ripping him away from me because I will never have met him. I'll be floating through my life knowing that there was someone I was supposed to meet but never getting that chance.

"No, no . . ." I cried frantically, my hands shaking as I looked around my room trying to think of something. I would be too late to drive down to the Basilica and help Jesse stop Paul now. But I need to _do_ something! I need to stop Paul; I need to . . . "Go back in time." I murmured to myself, whipping around to stare at my pillow, remembering I have something of Jesse's too and I'm standing in a place that he'd been standing in, in 1850. Why didn't I think of this before?! Rushing around my bed I laughed frantically, because there's still a chance. There's still a chance for Jesse and me.

Determined, I grabbed my pillow off my bed and tossed it aside automatically reaching out to grasp the small painted portrait of Jesse I've been hiding there since Jack Slater gave it to me after he used it to exorcise Jesse with Maria, Jesse's ex-fiancée's help. But my hands only touched cool soft cotton, his portrait gone. "What - " I started, blankly staring at the bed sheet confused. "Where is it?!" I cried, reaching out to rip the last of my pillows off the bed along with the covers.

With my heart thumping hard enough in my chest to make it hurt I shook my head and looked at my empty bed, his portrait not where I kept it. My head was starting to spin, the pain in my chest getting worse with every second. I couldn't see straight my eyes were filling with tears so quickly. I felt like I was moving through a thick fog that was curling around my body dragging me down. I knew what was happening; it was my heart breaking into a billion pieces as the truth set in. Shaking, I moved my bedside table aside, clutching on to the hope that maybe it fell of the bed while I slept. But I couldn't see it, even through my tears. My hands were only brushing against soft carpet, not the small portrait.

Slowly pulling back I sat down hard and raised my shaking hands in front of my face, looking at them strangely. This is it; I'll never see Jesse again. I'll never know what it feels like to have his arms around me, to kiss his thin soft lips and watch his scar through his eyebrow turn white when he's angry at me. I'll never watch his long, strong tanned fingers move through his crisp dark hair when he's frustrated. I'll never see his smile showing off his straight white teeth when I do or say something that he finds so funny. I'll never hear him whisper, '_Querida_,' against my lips when he's running his hands over me, bringing me alive in a way nothing else can or will.

I'll never meet the man I'm supposed to love for all of time.

"Jesse . . ." I murmured, looking up. "Jesse! _Jesse I need you_!" I broke down on a sob, thinking as hard as I could to make him come to me. It's worked in the past right? It'll work now. It has to work, it just _has_ to. _Jesse, please, please come to me_!

"Susannah?" Jesse replied, suddenly miraculously appearing in front of me where I was kneeling on my floor, sobs wracking my body as I tried to suck in breaths. But if he's here, then maybe it wasn't too late? Maybe he got to Paul before he did anything, maybe he won't leave me and I can kill Paul once I've gotten control of myself again. Maybe . . . "Slater was gone when I got there, I looked all over for him but I couldn't see him. He could have left; he could have - _Querida_, don't cry." Jesse reached out for me, drawing me close to his chest where I soaked his old fashioned shirt instantly with my tears. He was too late, I_ know_ Paul, and I know he didn't leave. His threat was real, it's always been real I just didn't listen, I didn't take him seriously.

He's ruined my life. He's ruined our destiny. I just _know_ it.

I clutched Jesse's shirt in my fists, holding him to me as though that would keep him there with me. "He's going to do it, Jesse. He's going to take you from me. He's really going to do it . . . I can't lose you! Please, I can't lose you." I begged again and again while Jesse held me as close as I held him, his big strong hands stroking my hair soothingly. But I could feel him shaking beneath me as terrified as I am. And if Jesse is scared then I know there's no hope at all. Though he tried to tell me there was.

"We can still fix this, we'll find a way to - " he broke off suddenly, his whole body going tense beneath me.

Pulling away I looked up at him. "What's wrong?" I gasped, seeing his shocked and confused expression. "Jesse, what's happening?"

"I don't know," he murmured, looking down at me as he slowly reached out to cup one side of my face with his large cold hand. I leaned in to him, desperate to memorise his face, the way he feels against me, his eyes and the love he was looking back at me with. "_Querida_, I - " he began saying but then I realised why he stopped. He was fading away from me, his touch becoming less real.

"No! _NO_!" I cried, reaching out for him, my hands falling through him. _No, no, no_!

Jesse equally tried reaching out for me, but his movements were slow and sluggish. I could see the pain and horror in his eyes as he tried to say something but no words were coming. I wanted to hear him say he loved me, tell me he would find a way, tell me it was going to be OK. Something, I wanted to hear something! But there was nothing as just like that, as if he never existed, Jesse winked out of my life. Gone.

But, but there should have been more time. _I needed more time!_

The breath stopped in my chest, my hands falling through thin air where the man I love, the man I would do anything for, the man I am supposed to spend the rest of eternity with just disappeared. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, the pain that I had felt before when I thought there was a chance Paul was going to ruin my life was nothing,_ nothing_ compared to what I felt now. Dazed I glanced down at my chest, expecting to see blood pooling where my heart is supposed to be, because seriously, being shot point blank there would hurt less.

I knew there were warm tears moving down my ice cold cheeks as time seemed to suddenly start crawling to a stop. But I couldn't feel them, I couldn't _feel_ the carpet beneath my cheek because there was only pain, only pure, stabbing heartbreak as my head started to spin fast and faster, sickness roiling in my stomach. The edges of my vision started to blur and turn black as my body become as light as a feather. I could have been floating, the world crumbling and dying around me and I wouldn't flinch or move. The only thing that would have gotten me up would have been the voice of Jesse, the cool touch of him on me, the look of love in his eyes.

But there was nothing but the floor falling away from beneath me as the world turned dark and everything I had known before was no more. Winking out of being, my destiny re-written, my fate changed.

This is the end; I knew it as surely as I knew how to breathe.

The last thing I whispered before I drew my last wheezing breath was, "_Jesse_." And my world as I knew it ceased to exist.


	2. Chapter Two

_**A/N:** _Hi! Thank you for taking an interest in this story, I'm excited to continue it. So I've given myself a birthday treat and decided to update. Review replies will be done as soon as possible and I hope you all enjoy, reviews are love! :) x

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><p><strong><em>"Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul."<em> ** - Dave Pelzer

_**Chapter One**_

Bolting awake in my frilly, princess canopy bed my chest heaved up and down as I fought to get a normal breath in. Blinking through the fog of my nightmare I placed a hand on my chest feeling my heart racing like crazy in my chest as I looked around my room. Sunlight was slowly peeking through my curtains and lighting up my big bay window seat. My chest was aching like it'd been pummelled on in my sleep. After months of waking from the same nightmare I thought I'd be used to it by now. It's always the same feeling; I can't breath, my heads spinning, and a name on my lips but I can never remember whose; my heart always racing and the pain there, as sharp as ever.

The pain of true and complete heartbreak.

My eyes drifted over to the window seat again and stayed there. Ever since the first day I walked in to my - then new - room, I've always been drawn to the seat. There was something familiar and comforting about it, other than the fact it offered the best view of the ocean and my school, the Junipero Serra Mission Academy's dome in the distance. It's the best room with the best view in the house. I'll never admit it to anyone, but sometimes I've woken up there on the seat curled up in a ball. I never sleep walked until I moved to Carmel, California. I'd put it down to the stress of moving across the country and away from the only life - albeit far from normal life - I've ever known. But I talk to the dead on a daily basis, so stress doesn't come easily to me.

Flopping back down on my bed with a whoosh of air puffing from my pillows I groaned when I glanced at the clock; too early to get up, but too late to go back to sleep. "Great way to start your junior year, Suze," I muttered to myself, throwing an arm across my eyes, willing the pain in my chest to go away.

I moved to Carmel just over six months ago and the nightmare has been recurring ever since and it's always the same one. Despair, disconnection, complete and utter heartbreak. I never remember details like why I'm so upset, but the emotion is always the same. Sometimes I wake up crying, totally inconsolable. Sometimes it's just hard to breath. But I always feel the same pain, as if the nightmare isn't a dream at all but something I'm trying to remember. That usually sets me up for the rest of the day and I go through it feeling like a zombie, confused and withdrawn from everything.

Of course the dead never get the memo that I'm not firing on all cylinders and still bug the hell out of me on those days too.

But today is going to be different, because I'm going to _make_ it different. I'm starting the Mission a Junior, with a whole new designer wardrobe that's going to make even Kelly Prescott and Debbie Mancuso jealous - all brought with my hard earned cash over the summer - and a super hot new boyfriend to drive me there. Yep, this years going to be my year, I can just _feel_ it! I've waited long enough for my life to finally hit some kind of normal frequency and this past summer was finally the beginning of it! So I still get bugged by ghosts and I still have three step brothers I have to live with and a new step-dad, but I have a boyfriend! That alone is enough to make the rest bearable.

Oh and the fact my super hot boyfriend is a Mediator and can see ghosts too? Yeah, _so_ makes it even better!

Grinning I tossed my covers aside ignoring the ache in my chest and pushing the nightmare to the back of my mind, I decided to face this new, great start to my new near normal life and make sure I rock up to school in my boyfriends sweet convertible looking smoking hot. It's a hard life, right? I resisted the temptation to open my bedroom window, having been deceived by the glorious heat and sunshine of Carmel, I found out a week or so into living here that the mornings are bitterly cold and my room turns into an igloo if I leave my bedroom window open all night. That fog is no joke, thank God it burns off quickly or my new luscious hair thanks to the ocean air would be a frizzy mess.

Padding into my en-suite bathroom my mom and step-dad Andy were kind enough to install for me as I'm the only girl in the house, I turned the shower on and let the bathroom heat up while I brushed my teeth and examined my face for any over night blemishes. I know from experience of waking from the nightmare that my face can be splotchy in places from breathing so hard. Luckily today my greens eyes were bright and lacking the normal redness and blood-shot look. Good mood still in place I climbed into my shower and let the water pour over my head and down my back.

I guess I shouldn't really say my life has finally started to get semi-normal this summer. Truthfully I guess it started to pick up as soon as I moved to Carmel. Sure, the dead still follow me around, but to be so close to the ocean is definitely an improvement. That and finding out the principal of my school has got the same curse as me in seeing the dead were like the biggest revelation of my life. OK, it _is_ the biggest revelation, nothing else up until then had exactly surprised me and left me speechless quite like noticing a dead teenage girl talking to him the way she did as he walked me to my locker that first day of starting the Mission Academy.

Ever since, Father Dom has been like a frustrated mentor to me, trying to teach me a way of being a Mediator that doesn't involve my fists. Hey, my methods have worked perfectly fine for me for the last six years! It's not my fault ghosts, or Heather the teenage girl haunting my school, can't take the hint they're dead and can't make others die too just because they're lonely or in her case, regretted killing herself.

Needless to say Father Dom and I are still trying to find a compromise on how to deal with the dead.

I guess ghosts on the West Coast are just as volatile as they are back East, because Heather tried to do a great job of making me become an exclusive member of the dead club. She even nearly destroyed the school she was so mad. It was by sheer dumb luck my oldest step-brother - who is convinced I'm part of a gang - caught me sneaking out the night I exorcised Heather and found me under all the rubble in the school. He watches me pretty closely even now. She's not the only bad run in with ghosts I've had since moving to sunny California, there were the RLS Angels who did a great job of landing me in hospital with broken ribs, again, thanks to the intervention of my best friend Gina not listening to what I said and calling the police anyway who thought the guy who they suspected killed the RLS Angels, was also trying to kill me.

As if I'd let a guy do that kind of damage to me. If I wasn't so badly outnumbered I would've been fine. Besides, it all worked out fine in the end, the 'Angels' are in a better place - wherever that is - now and my ribs are healed.

Reaching a hand to the ribs they'd broke I ran my hand over them, half expecting to feel the pain still. But I'd been pretty numb to it, even then. I guess I just don't feel pain like most people. Sure, I've cried because I've stubbed my toe on something. But punches, cuts, broken bones - I guess I'm just numb to that kind of thing. It's one of the reasons Father Dom worries about me so much. He says I have a death wish - how he's never come across someone with such a 'reckless abandon for danger'. Sometimes I catch him staring at me with so much sadness that I don't know what to say. Me! Suze Simon who's rarely speechless.

He's trying to counsel me on why I just barrel into danger without thinking and I don't really have an answer for him. The truth is I don't really feel anything. _At all_. I'm content, but I've never felt true, pure happiness. The kind that makes you cry and feel all warm and fuzzy, and like nothing could take that happiness away from you. I've been sad, but not the deep, crying for days kind of sad. I smile, but I rarely laugh. I get annoyed, but it just as rarely turns to full on consuming anger. I'm just . . . _numb_, to everything.

Until my nightmares started. That's the only time I've ever really felt pure, heart-wrenching agony and sadness. The only time I've ever cried so hard I almost make myself sick. The rest of the time, it's like I'm a little . . . dead inside.

Shaking off the thought an image of my boyfriend popped into my mind and I smiled. That was something to be happy about and I am! Other than Tad Beaumont, my new man is the only guy I've ever kissed. It never went anywhere with Tad - considering I gave him poison oak and his uncle tried to kill us both because he was a serial killer and I'd stumbled on to that thanks to his victims - so to be asked out by the older brother of the kid I was babysitting at the Pepple Beach Hotel and Resort, I was pretty shocked! It's not as if guys were lining up down the block to ask me out when I lived in Brooklyn, so I never thought guys would pay me much attention being in Carmel either.

But Paul Slater had and I was starting to know how it felt to be a little bit normal for a change.

Things had started looking up just being in Carmel, having already got more friends in a day than I had the whole sixteen years I lived back East, finding another Mediator, becoming the class Vice President - whether I wanted it or not - and finally kissing a boy; Paul asking me out felt almost too good to be true . . . Almost. I said yes of course, I'm not totally dead inside; I am still a hot blooded woman. It was over a Latte at the Coffee Clutch that I found out not only was Paul's little brother Jack a Mediator too, but so was Paul. I know I looked so attractive at that moment with my mouth hanging open gaping at him like a goldfish. But I was shocked! I had no idea I had the kind of luck to attract not only a super hot guy, but one with the same curse as me too!

OK admittedly I was angry at him at first. Who just comes out with that, weeks after meeting someone over _coffee_? I'd been struggling with making excuses for my weird habits while babysitting his little brother for weeks and then he just casually comes out with already knowing about me. Once I got past the shock I wanted to slug his handsome face. But I'm a cool headed girl - most of the time - and I sat back and took it in from a different perspective.

After all, only good can come from knowing someone else can see the dead too. And it can only get better if you're dating that person too.

Did I also mention his parents are stupidly rich? Yeah, they so are. It's because of them I've managed to totally kit my fall/winter wardrobe with designers. Not that money's everything, but it helps when your new boyfriend wants to take you out to gorgeous - and expensive - restaurants on dates.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping myself and hair in towels, I moved back to my bedroom and started putting an outfit together.

I thought dating Paul over the summer would be just that, a summer fling. But the week before him and his family were supposed to leave to go back to Seattle he told me he'd asked his parents if he could move schools and stay in Carmel, because apparently - another thing he never bothered to tell me about - his grandfather lives here and he could crash with him. I guess his parents never had a problem with it and his transcripts are impressive enough - probably with a hefty donation - the Mission Academy accepted him without much fuss. So our summer fling is now a full on, not that I'm complaining - relationship!

Sitting down at my dressing table I got to work blow-drying my hair and just letting it fall in soft, shiny chestnut waves past my shoulders. I've been toying with the idea of cutting more off, but every-time I've mentioned it to Paul he tells me he likes it long and not to ruin it. Brushing that off I got to work on subtly making my face up, my summer glow meaning I didn't have to use much. I'm no model, but I'm no hag either. I know just how to accentuate my best features and when I got dressed and checked myself out in my full length mirror I smiled, happy with the result.

Walking to my door something out the corner of my eye caught my attention and spun me back to looking at the window seat. But when I looked I didn't see anything. How messed up that the possibility of seeing something that isn't there gives me more butterflies than my boyfriends touch does. I guess my nightmare screwed with me more than normal so I tried to shake off the remnants of the dream before it brought me back down to how I felt when I first woke up. Spinning back for the door I all but ran out of the room and down the stairs, trying to leave the vague dream memories behind.

"Morning Suze," Andy smiled cheerfully at me when I strolled into the kitchen, finding Brad - or who I like to call Dopey, my second step-brother and a fellow starting Junior at the Mission Academy - sitting at the table shovelling cereal in to his mouth in a way that made sure I wouldn't be eating anything until at least lunch. "All set for your first day back?" I grabbed a red apple out of the fruit bowl and shoved it into my new designer bag, nodding at Doc - or David as everyone else calls him, my youngest step brother - as he walked into the kitchen, his red curly hair making him look even more boyish then he already is. He's my favorite out of my three step-brothers.

Shrugging, I smoothed another hand through my hair one last time hearing Paul's car beep for me; saved by the horn. "Pretty much, that's Paul, I'll see you tonight." I replied quickly, grabbing my pack up off the counter and moving out of the kitchen quickly so I didn't have to stick around for the third degree from Andy about Paul. I've already had 'the talk' from him and my mom about curfews etc now I have a boyfriend. I would've thought my mom would be over the moon her anti-social daughter was finally getting some male attention. But for some reason they weren't taking to Paul like I thought they would. So I try to avoid any mention of my boyfriend to them if I can help it.

Makes my life less complicated than it already is.

Shoving my lunch into my bag with my apple, I grinned down at Paul from where I stood on the porch seeing his curly blond hair sitting behind the wheel of his hot convertible, his dark sunglasses perched half way down his nose as he stared up at me. "Hey beautiful." he called, spurring me into moving. I've been in his car loads of times; I know I look good in it. Slipping my sunglasses on, I tossed my bag to the floor and slid in next to him loving the warm soft leather beneath my bare legs. Grinning at me, Paul leaned over and slipped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss that was soft but possessive.

When he first used to kiss me my heart used to do a little tap dance in my chest and warmth would flood through me. But I don't get that same reaction anymore; it's more a pleasant quiet hum as I kiss him back. It's nice, he's a great kisser, better than Tad even and he's pretty damn good. I guess it's just the same as my reaction to everything else - numb. Paul doesn't seem to notice so I don't draw attention to it.

Letting me go, our breathing a little labored, Paul reached down and squeezed my bare knee. "Hey," He said again, sitting back in his seat.

Laughing, I adjusted my skirt and sat back. "Hey yourself."

"As much as I want to sit here and kiss you some more, I'm not going to earn any brownie points with your step-dad scowling at me from the window," he wryly smiled, putting his car into reverse and rolling down my gravelled drive-way. I glanced up not seeing anyone in the windows Paul had been talking about. "He was there," he said, turning the car onto the road. "Or with the priest who I'm sure wants to talk to you about some other ghost's sob story that's come up since you last saw him." Paul continued, his tone showing exactly what he thought of Father Dom's attitude towards being a Mediator and ghosts.

Pressing my lips together I stared out the window trying to ignore the flare of defensiveness I felt towards Father Dom. I guess I forgot to mention that Father D and Paul don't exactly see eye to eye with each other either. Sure Paul respects him, but he thinks his attitude to ghosts and how to deal with them - and mine for that matter - is totally bogus and that we've been going about it all wrong all this time. Because according to Paul - _another_ thing he neglected to mention straight away - we're not even called Mediators. At least, I'm not anyway. Apparently we're 'Shifters' with these nifty powers way better than just being able to see, touch and talk to the dead. As if I really want anymore hassle than I already have with seeing ghosts.

Paul's been trying to get me to listen to what he has to say about Shifters and these powers for weeks, ever since he dropped that bomb on me one night out at his huge, sleek, modern and cold house his grandfather owns. I'm not so sure I'm ready to hear it yet. I don't know if that's because the moment he said that word I almost had my first panic attack, or because I'm still pissed it feels like I've been strung along with half truths from him from the beginning, in stead of being given the whole truth. Either way he's backed off for now but I know he'll bring it up again soon and I guess eventually I'll listen to what he has to say; a little of me is curious and I want to know more. But for now I just want to be a semi-normal Junior, for a couple of days at least.

Is that too much to ask for?

Once Paul found a parking spot and turned his throaty car off, he reached out and took my hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss my knuckles. I willed myself to feel something as his full warm lips brushed over my skin while I looked at him, gazing over his handsome looks. But I couldn't, I didn't even get a flutter in my stomach. Trying not to let the disappointment show, I got out of his car and took a deep breath.

"This is my year," I whispered to myself again, straightening my skirt and taking a deep breath as I looked up at the Mission Academy and felt Pauls arm wrap around my waist, pulling me up against his side. "This is it."


End file.
